


The Losers Went Marching

by Saral_Hylor



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Drabble, M/M, team morale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saral_Hylor/pseuds/Saral_Hylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because, sometimes, morale is all there is left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Losers Went Marching

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I go bushwalking, get _The Ants Went Marching_ stuck in my head and think a little too much about Losers fanfiction. 
> 
> Warnings for silliness and not perfect rhymes.
> 
> Un-beta'd, you know the drill, lazy, mistakes.

It hadn't been the best mission, but not the worst either. At least they were all walking; barely, but they were still walking. Clay took point, with only a hand gun, his right arm in a makeshift sling, made from Cougar's scarf. Pooch and Roque followed, the driver limping badly, leaning against the SIC, whose left wrist and hand were strapped tightly. Jensen and Cougar brought up the rear, the hacker's hand gripped furiously onto the sniper's shoulder, eyes bound from where his glasses smashed against his face. Cougar walked stiffly, his back badly bruised from where he'd tumbled from his perch to the ground, twenty feet below.

They had five miles to the extraction point, but for once, they were free of bullet holes, and they had been successful. Even so, after one mile, Jensen's mood lifting babble had dwindled to a halt, and Pooch had began to grizzle about the distance and the lack of wheels.

After the second mile, Cougar shifted Jensen's hand from his shoulder into his, tangling dirty fingers together, trying to avoid hurting the two fingernails the hacker was missing. It was that simple gesture what got Jensen started again, at first softly humming the tune of _Ants Go Marching_ , one of Beth's favourites, between deep breaths and shallow winces of pain. 

It was after they dropped into deeper cover, along a heavily treed river bank that Jensen started singing, quieter than usual, but upbeat as ever, and even Roque couldn't find it in himself to complain. 

"The Losers went marching five by five, horah, horah, the Losers went marching five by five, horah, horah, the Losers went five by five until Clay stopped for a roll in the hay, and they all went marching down, to get out, of the rain." 

Clay snorted, but kept walking. "That the best you could come up with Corporal?" 

"On such short notice, yes, sir." Jensen grinned in the general direction of Clay's voice. "I'll try harder next time, but onto Roque!" 

"You're life might not be worth it." Roque growled, as good natured as someone in his situation could. 

"I know Cougs will protect me. And a one, two, three, the Losers went marching four by four, horah, horah, the Losers went marching four by four, horah, horah, the Losers went marching four by four until Roque stopped to talk to some folk, and they all went marching, down, to get out of the rain."

Cougar's fingers tightened momentarily around Jensen's, carefully guiding him around a tree and several large rocks. He couldn't help the smirk that played at the corner of his mouth as Roque shot a glare at the hacker. 

"Hope you got something better in store for me, JayJay." Pooch called back, grinning at Roque's frown, "Oh, c'mon, man, lighten up, he could have made you eat egg yolk or something." 

Jensen cleared his throat dramatically, "Okay, everyone should join in. The Losers went marching three by three, horah, horah, the Losers went marching three by three, horah, horah, Losers went marching three by three 'til Pooch stopped to drink some hooch, and they all went marching down, to get out of the rain." 

"Ha, that's good, Jay." Pooch chuckled, then winced and swore as he put his foot down too hard.

"Me now." Cougar squeezed Jake's hand, wishing more than ever that they were out of there already, but at least Jensen was still alive and breathing, and in good enough spirits to try and raise everyone else's. 

"Okay, Cougs, got a good one for you," Jensen smiled towards the sound of the sniper's voice, "The Losers went marching two by two, horah, horah, the Losers went marching two by two, horah, horah, the Losers went marching two by two 'til Cougar stole Hitler's luger and we all went marching down to get out of the rain." 

Cougar smirked, lifting Jensen's hand to press his lips to his knuckles, gentler and sweeter than the situation really allowed, but the smile and colour that fanned across the hacker's cheeks was worth it. 

"Right, okay. One more. The Losers went marching one by one, horah, horah, the Losers went marching one by one, horah, horah, the Losers went marching one by one, 'til Jensen went to create an invention, and they all marched down, to get out of the rain." 

Silence fell for a moment, as they stopped, broken only by the ragged collection of pained breathing. 

"One more mile, c'mon Losers, we're getting out of here." Clay pushed forward, hoping to get them all going again. 

Roque hoisted Pooch's arm back over his shoulder and they pushed on. Cougar paused a moment longer, brushing his fingers softly across Jensen's cheeks, grimacing at the sight of the scratches that still showed around the edges of the bandages. 

You okay?" 

Jensen knew that the question was asking more than the obvious. He tipped his face to the side, pressing his lips against the palm of Cougar's hand. "Yeah, I can keep going all day. Got plenty more songs yet. Might even do _Quarter Master's Store_ next. Do you think I can rhyme spankin' with Franklin?" 


End file.
